


when this kiss is over, it will start again

by rolloinky



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Cisswap, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, Gift Fic, Post-Canon, Riku Loves Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Slice of Life, Sora Loves Riku (Kingdom Hearts), cis swap, cis-swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolloinky/pseuds/rolloinky
Summary: She has woken up like this every day for the past 572 days.It’s a day like any other.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	when this kiss is over, it will start again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinkyblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkyblues/gifts).



> Happy Holidays Pinky!!!!
> 
> You're such a wonderful person to talk to and I'm always excited to see what you have to say next! You're an incredible writer and I aspire to write fic that can capture an iota of the tenderness you instill in yours. I'm lucky to call you a friend and I hope you enjoy this little gift <3
> 
> title taken from "heaven" by the talking heads

It’s a day like any other. 

Riku blinks awake to the notches in the ceiling and traces the wood grains in the beam spanning the length of the room, watches the steady reach of sunlight and sighs at the weight against her side. 

The open window adjacent to their bed pulls the distant sound of crashing waves and the scent of hibiscus into the space, filling Riku’s nose just as easily as the smell of Sora’s mango and honey shampoo does. The length of her body is warm, almost uncomfortably so, as Sora snores quietly into her collarbone, her hair tickling Riku’s jaw. She’s sprawled half on top of Riku, arm thrown over her chest and tangled in the dark blue fitted sheet beneath them. On every inhale Riku can feel the flutter of lashes against the skin of her neck, knows Sora’s eyes are flicking rapidly beneath delicate eyelids and feels warmth suffuse her heart at the easy breaths. She sighs, at peace knowing it’s a _good dream_ which has no doubt put a smile on Sora’s sweetly sleeping face. The open window adjacent to their bed pulls the distant sound of crashing waves and the scent of hibiscus into the space, filling Riku’s nose just as easily as the smell of Sora’s mango and honey shampoo does. Their limbs are tangled, slotted comfortably and familiarly together beneath soft sheets and the thick weight of the comforter but every inch of Riku feels weightless. 

She has woken up like this every day for the past 572 days. 

It’s a day like any other. 

Riku watches the steady rise and fall of Sora’s darkly freckled arm across her chest like driftwood caught in the tide, feels her eyelids begin to droop at the trance-like calm it instills but she forces her eyes open. She has plans, ones which can’t be brought to fruition from the comfort of their bed - well, there are some of those plans which could. 

Sighing once more, she turns her head enough to press her lips against Sora’s hair and twitches at the strands brushing her nose. She begins the snails pace separation of her body from Sora’s, huffing quietly at the pout that materializes on Sora’s face at the growing gap between them. Sora’s hand is curled tightly now in Riku’s sleep shirt and she gently loosens each finger from the soft material until her hand is lax. Riku brings Sora’s hand up, lips quirking at the heavy looseness of her arm as she brushes her lips across Sora’s knuckles. She places Sora’s hand against the sheets and smiles as she immediately gravitates to the spot Riku just vacated. 

Turning back around, she slides to the edge of the mattress, feet flat against the wooden floor. Slowly, so as to not wake Sora with the mattress squeaking, she rises. From here she can clearly see out the window, sheer curtains swaying lazily on either side. 

It’s a day like any other.

The islands are lush, the bright white beach a stone's throw away, and the sky bleeds seamlessly with the crystal clear waters into the horizon. It’s a veritable paradise. Glancing over her shoulder at the bed, Riku imagines any place _would be_ so long as Sora was there. 

Drumming her fingers lightly against her thigh, Riku pads her way over to the hallway. The house is old and announces each step she makes no matter how careful she is. Stepping over the threshold of their bedroom - and avoiding the notoriously squeaky board - Riku exhales into the stillness of the hallway. The walls are painted a light apricot - Sora’s choice - and there’s dozens of mismatched frames covering the surface. She passes by them every day, knows their contents by heart, but she can’t help but lean against the door jam and skim her eyes across them anyway. 

Donald, Goofy, and Sora grinning with their arms around each other in front of the gummiship. A sketch of Sora smiling by a campfire from that first year apart, carefully rendered in charcoal with the initials _J.P._ in the corner. Two tickets to the Disney Castle Dream Festival in a frame shaped like the King’s ears. A slightly unfocused selfie of Axel, Isa, Xion, and Roxas atop the Twilight Town clock tower, sea salt ice cream in hand. Kairi in Radiant Garden gathered around a table with the Restoration Committee. A couple of Namine’s drawings which Sora had found and collected after her year of sleep. Aqua, Terra, and Ven closely huddled together in the Land of Departure, attention directed at the starry night sky. The thalassa shell charm. Mickey bestowing an honorary knighthood on Riku, her face flushed as she knelt before the throne in the crowded Audience Chamber of Disney Castle.

And finally, moments of _them_.

Sora and Riku sitting on a kitchen counter as children, limbs scuffed up and bandaged with gap toothed smiles on their faces. The day Sora’s dad gifted them their wooden swords, their eyes bright and barely visible through their delighted grins. Riku’s first day of school, uniform perfectly pressed as she stood next to a pouting Sora whose face was still tear stained. There’s countless ones of them on the play island - sparring, swimming, playing in the waterfall - the steady change as they grew up and apart in each and every one. 

Riku finds it hard to look at one picture in particular. 

She was fifteen when it was taken. The jealousy and loneliness and love for her best friend atrophying her heart and evident in the way she distanced herself from Sora and Kairi in the photo, barely able to stand being in the same frame. The picture was shameful, evidence of Riku’s fall to the darkness but Sora disagreed. 

Riku remembered when Sora had hung the photo, hands gently straightening the frame and lingering next to Riku’s younger self. 

“It was a part of you. A part of both of us. I don’t _ever_ want to forget any piece of you, Riku.”

They hugged tightly in the hallway for a long time after that. 

Heart thumping heavily she blinks the memory away and scans her eyes across the rest. 

A picture of them pressed closely together at the Twilight Town movies, faces illuminated by the projector. The two of them in Port Royal, Riku blushing as Sora kissed her cheek - their hats knocked askew by the action. A selfie Riku had taken at Radiant Garden, Sora asleep on her shoulder as they curled up together in a library armchair. One Donald had taken of them at Belle and Adam’s wedding dressed in silver and gold finery, the perspective so low their heads aren’t even in the picture. And finally - Riku’s favorite - a picture she’d taken on the play islands of Sora smiling softly up at her, backlit by the setting sun. It’s not entirely in focus and leaves something to be desired to an objective observer but to Riku it’s perfect. They had just kissed for the very first time and Riku’s hand was trembling around the gummiphone, steadied slightly by Sora’s fingers curling firmly around Riku’s own. 

She can feel the dopey grin on her face and rubs the warm skin on the back of her neck as she finally pushes off the door jam and goes to start the day. 

\---

Riku’s teeth are brushed, her hair slightly less tangled, and her steps sure as she enters the kitchen.

Sora’s the better cook, naturally gifted at it and well practiced under Little Chef’s careful eye, but Riku… manages. She pulls out some eggs, bell peppers, a few cherry tomatoes and sets about whipping up some omelettes for the two of them. The windows are cracked and the wind flowing through palm fronds and ferns is a soothing counterpoint to the low buzz of anxiety under Riku’s skin as she tries not to burn their breakfast. The sizzle in the pan is loud and Riku winces as she turns down the heat slightly and moves to open the window more widely, hoping it’s enough to deter the smoke detector from blaring to life and ruining the early morning quiet. 

She’s pouring two glasses of orange juice when she feels the slow tug on her heart. 

Lips quirking, she plates the two slightly overcooked omelettes and places them on a tray along with the drinks. The tug is getting more insistent along her heart strings and Riku rounds the doorway to Sora stretching languidly beneath the sheets, yawning widely up at the sun soaked ceiling. 

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Riku’s voice is soft, almost embarrassingly so, but it all fades as Sora’s eyes drift open and she grins cheekily up at her.

“Mmm good sleep, good girl, _and_ good food? Must be a dream,” Sora yawns again but the smile stays in place and her eyes are shining, hair a tangled halo above her. 

Riku ducks her head, flushes at the little laugh it earns her, and moves to her side of the bed. She slides the tray across the sheets, Sora helping by pulling as she tucks her legs into a criss cross position beneath herself with her back against the headboard. Sora steadies the tray as Riku climbs back into bed, the sheets still slightly warm despite her absence. Her fingers brush a plate, about to hand out their breakfast when Sora brushes against her cheek to tuck some stray hair behind her ear. She glances over, heart stuttering as Sora watches her with that same soft little smile from the photograph. 

“Good morning, love,” Sora leans up and kisses her cheek, words soft like the lips against her skin and she can feel the heat rising to meet them. The tug on her heart has gentled and she can almost hear the faint notes of a piano over the crashing waves as their eyes meet. It flares even louder when Sora cups her cheek fully, thumb stroking across the curve as her eyes skim across her face. Her lashes flutter down as she looks at Riku’s mouth and Riku’s moving forward before the thought fully forms. They kiss in their bed, in their home, in their love. 

It’s a day like any other.


End file.
